Friday, 16 July 2010

Come Rain or Come Crime

I was leaving the house this morning as it was drizzling when Daleen stopped washing dishes and looked up.

"Are you planning to take a taxi?""No, I was just planning to walk."

She thought for a second, and was like, "I think you should wear a sweater." I was already wearing a zip-up sweatshirt, so I said I thought I'd be fine, and she was like, no, you also need a sweater. I ran upstairs, put on a sweater, and was like, "okay, see you tonight!" and she stopped me again.

"Don't you have a windbreaker?""No, I'll walk fast and beat the rain.""You need a windbreaker."

So she ran upstairs and got a windbreaker, and I put it on, and I looked like a marshmallow trudging off to work. And she nodded with approval and said, "there, now you'll stay safe."

It wasn't until I left the house that I thought, dry, or warm, maybe, but I don't think layering keeps you safe. And then I realized that she was probably halfway trying to keep me dry and halfway trying to pad me for if I get stabbed. She thinks of everything.

Hello and Welcome

Sharing Is Caring

Loves

I like airports, polemics, simplicity, queer movements, pretending to know how to cook, the New York Times crossword puzzle from Friday to Sunday, Minnesota Public Radio, writing in books, parts of my Catholic upbringing including but not limited to a martyr complex, social justice, and solidarity with sex workers, women with acoustic guitars, corrupting my mother, coffee, urbanity, the Midwest, eating apples in their entirety and developing an immunity to cyanide, Lucille Bluth, multigrain breads where the number of grains are greater than or equal to seven, post-apocalyptic fiction, and maybe having a permanent address someday.